One Down

He picks up his cards and braces himself for the next play. He is in a winning streak and his friends are teaming up to beat him. He can feel his heart beating, his shoulders tensing, his focus slipping away, as it always does when he feels pressure. And then — screaming laughter all around him when he finally succumbed to the inevitable.

In another place, in another time, with a different version of him, he would be watching all this play out. He would be off standing just outside the circle of players. Not the kind to put the serious persona away to join in on the silliness and just play. He would be laughing and experiencing all this — not at the eye of the moment but just outside of it, hovering. So what made him pick up the cards and ask for one of his friends to show him how to play? That’s a mystery he will ponder on later because now he is losing one game after another.

By now, he is getting used to the feeling of losing countless times. It is not so much the losing that is new at all, but being the subject of all this attention — the playful ribbing and laughter. The table is turned on him. For once, he is not the one watching. It makes him feel just like everyone else. He is part of this moment, not alone on the side.

And it is okay being here, after all. Somehow, every moment he let pass barely touching him, made a huge gap between him and every moment that came after. The distance is wide and littered with unexamined reasons why he is holding back. And when he did cross that, he didn’t realize that it could be both simple and difficult. It felt like dragging yourself to the other side when suddenly, you have arrived. Later, he will pick apart these moments. But here now, he feels lighter than he’s ever been. Later, he will reflect on what it means. But here now, he is strangely free.